


Ten Ways to Take Care of Your In-Home Physicist

by seekingsquake



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Coping, Depression, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingsquake/pseuds/seekingsquake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's taken some practise, but Tony knows just how to take care of Bruce on the bad days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Ways to Take Care of Your In-Home Physicist

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this way back in May but never got around to finishing it for some reason. Here it is now though. Based off a post that had been floating around tumblr that was called "Ten Ways to Take Care of Your Depressed Man" or something like that, and I would link to but I've lost the post so. Oh well.
> 
> All characters belong to Marvel; I don't own anything except the Hulk onesie I'm wearing for Halloween.
> 
> Please do not repost or reupload this piece anywhere without consent. If you ask, I'm sure we can work something out.

  1. Take Him Outside




Tony doesn’t like to venture out much. He likes to hang out in the lab and the workshop, fiddling with his bots, getting work done. He likes his stunning views from the other side of enforced glass and doesn’t much care for the wind in his hair. If he never had a reason to go outside ever again, he wouldn’t.

But lately he’s been finding more and more reasons.

Sometimes he’ll walk into Bruce’s suite and the air is stuffy. The curtains are drawn, the central air has been powered down, and when he breathes in he’s left with a stale taste in his mouth. Those days, he doesn’t ask questions. He doesn’t dawdle. He doesn’t bother opening the windows or letting some fresh air in. Those days, he gently corrals Bruce out of bed, dresses him in a pair of shorts, a comfy shirt, and some sneakers, and leads Bruce down to the garage.

Tony will bundle him into a nondescript car and drive them upstate. Sometimes he takes them to a lake, sometimes just a quiet park, sometimes a hiking trail. He trots around the paths, takes big breaths of outdoor air, and points things out to Bruce.

“Hey look, a deer.”

“Hey, what kind of plant is that?”

“Hey, I think I saw an eagle.”

“Hey, do you know if this is poisonous?”

“Hey, ducklings!”

He never lets them get back in the car until Bruce has loosened up, until the haunted, dead look retreats from his eyes at least a little, until he admits, “I’m kinda tired and could use a shower; can we go home?”

When they get back, they’ll go to Bruce’s suite together, and Tony will open the patio door and turn the central air back on. He’ll pull back the blinds to let in some natural light. And when Bruce has gotten out of the shower, they’ll curl up together on the couch and nap in the square of sunlight coming in, like contented cats.

Tony knows that the world is a better place than his bedroom, he tells himself to remember and it’s enough. But sometimes Bruce forgets. Sometimes just saying the words doesn’t get through the thick fog of apathy that Bruce sometimes gets lost in. Sometimes Tony has to show him before he can remember.

    2. Remind Him of His Childhood

Tony doesn’t talk about important things with people. He doesn’t like to dwell on the past much if he can help it. He likes to take his experiences and build off of them to make things better. He tries very hard not to think about his childhood.

There are days where all Bruce can think about are the shadows of his. Not even of his childhood as a whole, but he will fixate on those handful of early years and he’ll trap himself in those memories, convince himself that six of those early, terrible years dictated his whole life. Those days are hard for both of them because Tony doesn’t like to talk about things but wants to help, and Bruce doesn’t even notice that he’s wading into deep waters.  

His usual way of handling those days is watching old Charlie Brown specials, even if they’re out of season. Human Jarvis would put them on for him when he was a kid, and he knows that pretty much everyone in his age range saw them growing up. He knows Bruce saw them.

Bruce will enter the room and pause, his eyes watching the screen, and Tony will gently cajole him until he decides to sit down. If they watch the Halloween one with the Great Pumpkin, Tony always asks about Jennifer, asks if Bruce ever helped her with her costumes, ever took her Trick or Treating, ever carved a pumpkin with her. It usually takes Bruce a while to pull up those memories from underneath the other ones, the ones from when he was younger, but when he does he always almost smiles. It was him that always checked her candy for sharps, him that always got left with all the Smarties* and boxes of raisins because she liked the chocolates the best. He took her to a fair once where they watched people dunk for apples and he was more scared of the haunted house than she was.

Bruce’s six years with his father, and then his years in foster care, and then his years with an aunt that really didn’t want him did impact his life. They did change the course of who he was going to become. But he had good moments as a kid, too. Not as many as he should have, and not as prominent in his memory as the others, but they’re there. And when Bruce feels like all he ever was was a punching bag to a man who should have known better and should have loved him, Tony tries really hard to remind him. Yeah, he was a punching bag, but he was also the closest thing Jen ever had to a brother. He was also the one who saved her from bullies, and taught her how to tie her shoes, and told her about the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and all the things little kids are supposed to believe in but that he never got the chance to. He was always somebody’s hero.

He’ll never think of those things on his own, but it’s important that he remembers.  It’s important that Tony shows him he had that in him the whole time.

By the end of the movie Bruce is leaning into Tony’s side and smiling, and that’s enough for now.

    3. Show Him There is Beauty Out There

Sometimes all Bruce can see is destruction and death and ugly. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and has to close his eyes, sometimes he turns on the news and needs to exile himself to the Hulk Room. Sometimes he can’t breathe because he thinks that everything around him is on fire, is crumbling to pieces around him, is broken and tarnished and tainted.

Sometimes Tony wants to tell Bruce that he’s right. But he never does.

Instead, he goes out onto the street. He walks until he finds a flower vendor of some sort, usually an old woman with a cart full of roses, one time a young lady with her arms full of daisies, occasionally an actual florist if that’s the first thing he happens upon. He’ll buy a small bouquet, or a tiny potted plant, something beautiful and delicate, something that needs to be cared for, and he’ll walk back home with it cradled in his hands.

He’ll take it up to Bruce’s suite and he’ll arrange it on the window sill in Bruce’s bedroom. When Bruce asks, Tony will say, “It made me think of you. Isn’t it beautiful?” and Bruce will blush. He’ll never disagree though, because Tony will be smiling. Tony knows that Bruce just wants to make him happy, uses that knowledge to his advantage, and smiles when he says it so that Bruce will accept it for what it is: a statement that Tony believes, something that makes him happy.

Bruce will water it and look after it and in the coming days he’ll be able to look in the mirror without flinching away from his reflection, he’ll be able to watch the news without getting too angry. He’ll be able to breathe without choking on smoke and ashes that are only in his head. One morning he’ll even wake up and the first thing he’ll say to Tony is, “It’s beautiful today, isn’t it?” and Tony will smile.

    4. Kiss His Face

Tony kisses Bruce all the time. Cheek kisses in passing, forehead kisses on rough days, temple kisses when they cuddle. Kisses to his hands when Bruce is shaking with exhaustion, kisses that get lost in the unruly curls of his hair when he’s alight with manic anxiety. It’s a missed opportunity every time Tony doesn’t kiss Bruce, really, but he doesn’t kiss Bruce’s lips very often. That’s a treat, a privilege, something saved for only the best of days, for only when Bruce initiates it.

Bruce thrives under the affection but gets overwhelmed if it’s too focused, if it’s too pressing, if Tony makes it seem too important. He soaks up the thoughtless kisses, the brush of Tony’s lips on his skin or in his hair when Tony is focused on something else, is leaving the room, is elsewhere in thought. He relishes the kisses that are nothing but habit, that are part of their routine, that are so natural it comes as thoughtlessly as breathing.

Loving Bruce is a big deal to Tony. A huge deal. But it’s important that it doesn’t feel that way. It’s important that loving Bruce feels like your average Tuesday afternoon. Lip kisses are statements that at this point don’t often need to be made. The other kisses are reminders-- I’m here, I love you, it’s so ingrained into who I am that it’s not worth making a big deal of.

    5. Don’t Overwhelm Him With PDA

At first it was surprising to everyone when Tony had proved that he could keep his hands to himself in public. They were used to him making physical claims on his lovers if ever they were out together and could be photographed, but since Bruce that’s all but stopped.

Bruce has a complicated relationship with his self esteem, with his place in Tony’s life, with the media. PDA makes Bruce feel insecure, scrutinized, lost. PDA with Tony Stark makes him feel like a target, like the military is going to swoop out of the sky and crawl out from under cars and snatch him away, like bubblegum news mags are going to pick him apart and tell the whole world about how he isn’t good enough to be wanted by the man of his dreams and finally open Tony’s eyes to the inferior being he’s presently shacking up with.

Tony, the genius he is, caught on pretty damn quick. If Bruce is having a good day then they can hold hands if they leave the Tower, or Tony can rest his hand on Bruce’s lower back as he talks to other businessmen at banquets and galas. Most often they just walk close together, speak softly into each other’s ears, and Tony promises to cuddle the shit out of Bruce when they get home. He lets a little possessiveness creep into his voice, lets a little heat seep into his gaze, and that’s how he makes him claim. That’s how he keeps Bruce calm and comfortable without making him feel watched or suffocated.

Besides, Tony doesn’t need the whole world seeing just how much he adores Bruce. That knowledge sits, nestled safe and precious, between the two of them and only their closest friends.

    6. Don’t Make a Big Deal of Sexual Mishaps

Bruce has a relatively low sex drive. They’re not certain whether it’s due to age, the fact that he’s mostly trained himself out of feeling desire, a side effect of long term exposure to the gamma in his own blood, or the emotional landscape he exists in. Tony’s own sex drive has started to level off as well over the past couple of years due to long term stress and his own anxiety disorder, so it’s not something that causes any real issue for them. Though Tony still experiences arousal far more often, he’s perfectly comfortable rubbing one out on his own when Bruce isn’t in the mood to help him.

Sometimes though, Bruce’s desire is palpable. Sometimes Tony will approach him, kiss him on the cheek or shoulder, and can almost taste how badly Bruce wants to take him to bed. Those moments Bruce will frame Tony’s hips in his hands, will kiss his mouth hungrily, will whisper either, “Can I please fuck you?” or, “Will you fuck me, please?” or, very occasionally just, “ _Tony_ ,” and Tony will hustle him to the nearest bedroom.

Most times, everything works out smoothly. Bruce ends up getting what he wanted, no matter what that specifically might be, and Tony’s always pleased because Bruce’s erection is always a wonderful treat. Most times they finish sweaty and sated, pleasantly exhausted and sore in the satisfying type of way. They enjoy long stretches of foreplay to start and marathon cuddling to finish, and Bruce carries that just got laid glow around for days.

Occasionally though, the foreplay lasts too long, or Bruce has a spike of anxiety part way through, or he’s too tired to sustain for any length of time. Sometimes his cock will deflate in Tony’s mouth, or after a few minutes of penetration. Sometimes, no matter what they do, they can’t get it to come back. The first time it happened they both left the encounter feeling embarrassed and insecure, and even now sometimes Bruce still does, but Tony’s not worried about it anymore. He knows that it doesn’t have anything to do with him, or their relationship. Sometimes Bruce’s body just doesn’t want to cooperate, and that’s nobody’s fault.

When it happens now, Tony kisses Bruce tenderly, touches him lovingly, and finishes himself off before corralling Bruce into the shower. They hang out under the hot spray, soaping each other up and talking about their latest project or their dinner plans between lingering kisses. They usually separate after that, go off and do their own things for a little while before meeting up later. But never before Tony gets in a good, casual, “Hey, I love you.”

Sometimes Bruce’s smile feels better than the orgasm.

    7. Don’t Push Too Hard

Tony likes adventure. He likes heights and speed and a certain amount of danger. He likes trying new things and eating new foods and spikes of adrenaline that shoot through his body when he does something for the first time and it ends up being _fucking cool_.

Bruce likes those things too, but to a much lesser extent. The foolhardy recklessness of his youth has been bled out of him and replaced with a good amount of caution and even more restraint. On his good days he enjoys pushing his own boundaries, enjoys getting into trouble right alongside Tony, and can be lead right into the heart of the excitement. Sometimes he can even be talked into starting the trouble himself.

There are some days though, that Bruce is better off left very firmly in his comfort zone. Days where he responds to even gentle prodding with passive aggressive posturing, scathing sarcasm, and the trembling hands that let Tony know that he needs a low stress environment and to be left to his own devices for a few hours.

In the beginning of their friendship Tony pushed even harder on those days, figured Bruce just needed a distraction from whatever was going on in that big, beautiful brain of his. More often than not, his pushing resulted in Bruce screaming at him and on the verge of a panic attack that could end with the building being leveled, or at least with the lab trashed. But he learned. There are some days Bruce can be pushed, should be pushed, and days where the best way to take care of him is to very firmly not.  

The longer they’ve been together, the fewer those off limits days have become.

When Bruce asks, “Are you gonna blow up the lab today?” Tony knows that it’s not the right day to push.

Tony likes adventure. But he’s starting to like quiet days, too.

    8.  Give Him Room to Breathe

Though they’ve practically merged together in the penthouse, Bruce still keeps his own suite three floors down. He spends a good thirty percent of his time there, the other seventy percent split between the lab, the penthouse, and the various common rooms. He never locks his door and Tony’s always welcome, but sometimes that’s as far as the invitation extends. Sometimes Bruce is all, “You can be here, but please don’t interact with me,” instead of his usual, “If you’re gonna be here I expect your arms around me the whole time.”

There are days where Bruce doesn’t leave his suite at all, days where they only talk through sporadic text messages and little videos. There are days where Tony will text _do you want to come up for dinner?_ and Bruce’s reply will be _Not tonight._

It took Tony a really long time to figure out that those days had nothing to do with him. Bruce always wants to see him, to be around him, to come up for dinner. But sometimes he just can’t. Sometimes being around other people is too tiring, too abrasive. Sometimes he feels too raw. When those days are over, Bruce will come upstairs and curl up on the couch in the circle of Tony’s arms, will hold on to him almost too tightly and whisper, “I missed you.” It’s okay though, because Tony usually holds on too tightly, too.

    9. Hold Him

Bruce often struggles with feeling connected to himself. He has a hard time seeing himself as a person, as something more than just the thing that contains Hulk. Sometimes his name sounds strange in his ears, sounds like it belongs to somebody else. He’ll look in the mirror and have a hard time connecting to the fact that the person staring back at him is him, and he’ll lose time, zoning out and shutting down. Sometimes he has a hard time differentiating between who he is now and all the people he had to be when he was on the run, will have a hard time figuring out if he’s Bruce or John or Adam or Felix, if he’s American or Canadian or European. He struggles to understand what his personality is, or if he even has one that he didn’t invent for the alias. Is he an alias? Has he lost who he actually is?

Does it matter?

Those days, Bruce is almost zombie-like in his movements. He doesn’t respond when spoken to, he can’t focus on anything, he can barely function. When Tony catches on to his lover’s mental state, he’ll gently lead Bruce to bed, strip him down and bundle him up in some comfy pyjamas, and put him back to bed. Then he’ll crawl in behind Bruce, spoon up right against his back and just hold him. Just breathe. He doesn’t speak unless Bruce speaks first, and does his best to answer any and all questions as honestly as possible, even if it hurts.

“Who am I?”

“Whoever you want to be.”

They lay together, sometimes just for an hour or two, sometimes for the whole day, until Bruce either comes back to himself or sends Tony away. It’s taxing, being so still and quiet for so long, but sometimes it’s necessary. Sometimes it’s the only thing he can do.

    10. Do Not Put His Happiness Before Your Own

“Hey, we’re all meeting up at that bar Steve likes out in Brooklyn, did you wanna come?”

It’s been a long day. Pepper had him in a bunch of meetings, all of his projects threw themselves against walls, and he wants to go out and relax with his friends. He would also like to have his boyfriend go out with him, but. Bruce doesn’t seem very into it.

Some days Bruce needs Tony to stay with him, even if he’ll never ask. Some days Bruce would like Tony to stay with him, even if he doesn’t need it. Most days, Tony will stay. He doesn’t want to stay in tonight, but he gets worried, nervous, if he leaves Bruce behind. He’s just about to change his plans, to sort out a list of movies they could watch or experiments they could do, when Bruce says, “No. I’ll stay here. But you should go.”

Tony hesitates. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t mind--,”

“Go,” Bruce insists, but kisses him soft and sweet. “You haven’t been out with the team in a while. Go. Have fun. I’ll be good on my own. Promise.”

Tony has a good time. He has fun drinking with Clint and picking on Steve and antagonizing Natasha and getting into trouble with Thor. He feels independent and carefree and on top of the world, and it’s not just because of the booze. He’s got friends that he trusts, and a boyfriend to go home to, and a job that he loves. He’s a fucking _superhero_. He loves his goddamn life.

It’s late when he finally gets home. Three in the morning and he’s stumbling and laughing a little to himself, and he tries to be quiet but he accidentally wakes Bruce anyway.

“C’mere,” Bruce murmurs, throwing the blanket back a little and flopping his arm out into the open air as some sort of cross between an invitation and a demand. So Tony goes. He flops down onto the bed, struggles to get his shoes off, collapses onto Bruce’s arm with all his clothes only half off, and laughs. “Did you have fun?” Bruce asks him, and his voice is muzzy with sleep but still amused, and he kisses Tony before he gets an answer, and Tony can practically feel how happy he is. How happy they both are.

That’s the thing about Bruce, though, that’s taken Tony a while to understand. Bruce is happy when Tony is happy, when Tony does things for himself just because he wants to. Some days Bruce can’t manage anything for himself, can’t muster the energy to smile or laugh. But when Tony’s happy it helps.

“Clint wants to go out again tomorrow,” Tony mumbles around Bruce’s lips, still chuckling a little. “You should come.”

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“I’ll still go without you.”

Bruce laughs. “Good. You should.”

**Author's Note:**

> *In Canada, Smarties are drops of chocolate coated in coloured candy, much like M&Ms. In Canada, the chalky candy that Americans apparently call Smarties are called Rockets. In Canada, being left with Smarties is good and being left with Rockets is pretty shitty. Thanks to werevampiwolf for helping me sort my candy out so that my American boys make the right references.


End file.
